


Family Reunion

by skittykitty



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Dark Ezra Bridger, Darth Maul Dies, Darth Maul Finds Ezra Bridger First, Ezra Bridger Needs a Hug, Ezra is around 22 in this, Gen, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, The Bridgers Live, Unreliable Narrator, they all do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 05:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30101022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skittykitty/pseuds/skittykitty
Summary: The Bridgers live, hidden in the Rebellion’s ranks. For fifteen years they have been separated from their son, believing him dead.After those fifteen years, Ezra has become a Sith, apprenticed to Darth Maul.
Relationships: Ephraim Bridger & Ezra Bridger & Mira Bridger, Ezra Bridger & Darth Maul
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	Family Reunion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cultivation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cultivation/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Choked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27875113) by [Cultivation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cultivation/pseuds/Cultivation). 



> Thank you [Cultivation](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cultivation/pseuds/Cultivation) for betaing this!! I hope you know how much you inspire me everyday! I'm glad we're both mutually obsessed with Darth Maul :))

For years now there were whispers of a new Sith— a Sith bearing the name of her son. The son she was forced to abandon fifteen years ago.

Ezra Bridger had been trained by Darth Maul— taken from Lothal and turned into a _monster._

Mira hoped— despite all those her son had slaughtered— that there was a spark of that sweet little boy left in him. Her son, who had laughed so easily. Her son who had taken his first steps in a quick rush of motion— her son who lived life to the fullest. Ezra loved them as if they would disappear at a moment's notice.

And hadn’t they?

Hadn’t they given that speech and ran— and did they not forget their son? Their poor son all alone at home, to be stolen by stormtroopers. But, no...

If he had been taken by stormtroopers, then he would be an Inquisitor— her son would be truly dead the way she had feared for decades. 

“Honey,” Ephraim murmured, his hand gently caressing her cheek. “It’ll all be okay. We can be… a family again.”

She scoffed, purple eyes staring at the floor in anger. “After we abandoned him for _fifteen years?”_ He turned away, guilt shining in his eyes. After a few seconds, she grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry. It’s… it’s just so _much.”_

Only recently had they realized who precisely Ezra had to be— who the descriptions of a blue-haired Sith _was._ It was only mere _days_ since they received permission to be here. 

The Spire held him— a hopeless tundra for those with no one left to mourn them. A place of death, a place of torture. The only prison that the Rebellion had, and the only prison that their son could not escape.

(And wasn’t she _proud?_ Proud of how much her son hated the Empire— almost as much as she did?)

Her husband— who had been her _everything_ for fifteen long years— smiled, holding her close. “Are you ready to meet him?”

With a long sigh, Mira looked into her husband's eyes. “I’ve been ready for a long time.”

The Bridgers walked into their son’s cell hand-in-hand, whispers of smiles on their faces.

* * *

He hadn’t always been like this— this cruel, twisted version of himself. Long ago, he’d been a kind soul— he’d tried to protect others and help people.

But, that didn’t work. It only left him captured by the Empire time after time— day by day, it grew harder to intervene when he saw someone in danger. Ezra had forced it, near the end. The teenager hadn’t _cared—_ and at the end of it all… well.

Ezra found someone so alike to himself, that he couldn’t help but change. Maul— his master, his mentor, his _father—_ had done so much for him. He had reached through his apathetic haze with screams of revenge and anger— and ignited that same rage in Ezra.

Laughter echoed in his cell. Sickly yellow eyes filled with warmth at the memories. Maul had a way with words in the worst way possible; he always knew how to motivate someone to duel him. 

Maul hadn’t been perfect. He allowed Ezra to be hurt, allowed him to become what he _hated._

But… his master had given him a _choice._

_Ezra,_ Maul had said. _You are at a… crossroads of a sort. One side is of the Sith and the other is… the Jedi. You know how I feel about both— how that hate keeps me alive._

_But,_ and his master had smiled, something soft— just for his apprentice. _This is your decision, Ezra._

And it had been.

No matter what anyone said— no matter how Kanan and Ahsoka screamed of how Maul had “corrupted” him— he knew deep down… none of it was Maul. Ezra had made the choice— he had chosen to become a _Sith_.

The constant buzz of the force-field was interrupted as two people entered his prison.

“Come to try and convert me again, Kanan?”

* * *

Ephraim studied his son,— his son who he had _grieved_ every second of those fifteen years— back turned away from them. That broken laugh, the way his son’s voice wavered between words...

All of it pointed to an unsettling conclusion. The prison hadn’t been taking care of him— allowing his son to thrive in ways he should be allowed. _Fine,_ take away the Force, take away any semblance of a home from him.

But, Ephraim couldn’t allow them to hurt his son— couldn’t allow him to not speak or drink water for days.

“I’m not Kanan,” he murmured, planning to interrogate the staff after leaving his son’s cell. “And we don’t want to… convert you.”

His son turned to face him, something between terror and hope in his eyes.

* * *

A Sith— her son was truly one of them. They hadn’t been lying… but she hadn’t doubted them, had she?

How could Mira have known for a _fact_ the son she abandoned would stay the perfect little boy she’d left behind? 

Simply staring into those conflicted yellow eyes brought deep pain to her chest. The same ache came to her during dreams of drowning little boys with bright blue eyes. Desperately, she wanted to touch him, to _feel_ the difference.

Slowly, she walked closer to her son. Ezra watched with hesitance as she sat on the floor in front of him. Mira felt her husband sit beside her, holding her steady.

Mira— an activist, a rebel, a _mother—_ held out her hand, trying desperately to stop the minute shakes through her arm. She couldn’t be weak now, she had to be here— see this through to the end.

She’d missed fifteen years of her son’s life— she wouldn’t miss a single second more. 

Ezra reached out hesitatingly, eyes flicking from her eyes to her hand. In the stillness of the cell, he grabbed the back of her hand. Exhaustion left him as he sighed, caressing her hand.

“Where were you?” Ezra murmured, yellow eyes staring into hopeful purple. “In those years, when I needed you— _where were you?”_

_I was surviving._

_I was grieving._

_I was learning how to live without you._

His grip on her hand tightened as seconds turned to minutes. There was no right answer here— only the truth. The truth that could end with her death here— in her son’s cell— or being able to understand and love her son the way she’d always yearned to.

There wasn’t a choice.

“Me and your father,” she began. “We were arrested for speaking out, for calling for a rebellion.”

Ezra nodded, eyes narrowed as he listened. 

“We spent a few weeks there before the Rebellion saved us.” Mira could still remember the screams of the innocent against the casual cruelty of the wardens. Her hand shook in her son’s grip. “We spent a few days recovering from the ordeal before we looked for you. We didn’t have long. The Empire was after us.”

“But… when we went home, you weren’t there.” Ephraim laid a hand against her shoulder. She turned to smile at him, the two of them taking a moment to think of the present— of how _close_ they were to being a family again. “No one we had trusted was still free, and you were nowhere to be found.”

Mira sighed, unable to stare at her son’s eyes any longer. It was a constant reminder of her _failures._ “I’m sorry, Ezra. I’m sorry we gave up, and I’m—”

Ezra brought her hand up to cup his cheek as he smiled, not quite happy, but not angry either. The best reaction she could hope for.

* * *

He took a moment to appreciate the warmth of his mother’s palm— to memorize his parents’ faces… to burn their voices into his head. Ezra refused to forget them again.

In the same way he had memorized every one of Maul’s tattoos, he would never forget what made him love his parents.

He would never forget _this._

“I can’t forgive you,” he murmured. “I… _can’t.”_ His grip on her hand tightened to a painful degree, but his mother didn’t flinch. She didn’t even look like she _noticed._ “If you had found me” — sickly yellow eyes stared into her purple eyes — “then… maybe, I wouldn’t be like this.” He laughed, something broken in his voice— the same brokenness that had haunted Maul’s every breath.

“I wouldn’t be a _monster.”_

Her palm spread over his cheek, leaving a warmth there he hadn’t felt in years. The natural warmth of Dathomir was a long-forgotten memory— a memory of better days. Of training with his master, of becoming better every day. 

The first memories he had of someone being _proud_ of him.

The first memories he had of training until he bled.

Ezra smiled at the feeling, holding his mother’s hand close. Those memories were _precious—_ something he would never tell anyone, even his parents. But, for just a moment, he allowed himself a moment to himself.

Pressing her warmth close, he allowed the fantasy to play out. 

_My apprentice,_ Maul would say. _I am so proud—_

No, no. He would never say that.

_Oh, how you’ve grown, Ezra._

They would either fight or— at least in his fantasy— Maul would grab him close, lifting him in the air.

_I missed you,_ neither would say.

_I never want to let go,_ Ezra almost whimpered at the thought.

Opening his eyes, Ezra sighed. His parents were so _expressive—_ in a way he could never be. Not now and not ever again.

“Ezra,” his father murmured. “You’re…” His parents looked at one another. “You’ve done bad things, but as long as you regret them, you aren’t a monster.”

For months now, there had been a scream building in him— a scream for the injustice of his master’s death— a scream for all he had gone through. 

_As long as you regret it,_ they said. 

Ezra smiled, something broken in his eyes. “I don’t regret it.” They had all died for a _reason._ Some had been terrible people, and others had just helped them get away with it. 

He’d never killed anyone innocent before. Of course, he hadn’t.

_You killed him!_ He screamed, lunging at Kanan. _You killed my master!_

His mother flinched away from him, drawing her warmth away. Looking in her eyes, he saw _fear—_ the kind of fear Kanan and anyone who knew him felt.

_Finally,_ Ezra thought. _Just give up._

* * *

It hurt to see him like that— it hurt to see their son so deeply pained by their neglect. But, Mira and Ephraim Bridger were not cowards; they did not back down from a fight.

“Good night, Ezra,” Mira whispered, standing alongside her husband. “See you soon.”

The Sith’s narrowed eyes followed them as they left. Perhaps, he had suspicions— perhaps, he knew that Bridgers never gave up that easily.

No matter, Mira and Ephraim would bring their son back to them— kicking and screaming if they had to. 

Even if he was still a Sith— even if he still _killed—_ at least they had a family. 

_Family comes first,_ Mira had whispered to her little boy. _Ezra, no matter what the cost… we will put you first, so long as you do the same for us._

Her son had nodded, a large smile on his face. Ezra had forgotten this part of being a Bridger, it seemed.

The two of them had the rest of their lives to remind him what _family_ meant.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! You can find me on my [tumblr](https://skitter-kitteruwu.tumblr.com/) where you can pester me to finish half-thought out ideas and scream to me about fics!!
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